


Left In The Wind

by One_Real_Imonkey



Category: NCIS
Genre: Death, Episode: s08e05 Dead Air, Father-Son Relationship, Timothy McGee Bashing, Tony DiNozzo & Jethro Gibbs Father-Son Relationship, Ziva David Bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 17:16:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15539127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/One_Real_Imonkey/pseuds/One_Real_Imonkey
Summary: A take on Dead Air and what could have happened.





	Left In The Wind

Left In The Wind:

"Ok, 180 Sandon Road," Tony reported into his comms. 180 houses down, 120 to go. God, he'd already been going non-stop for a few hours. 

He strolled down the drive with a fake smile plastered convincingly onto his face and the posture of a man who had only good intentions, ringing the doorbell casually.

A man opened the door, he instantly felt his cop-senses go into overload. The man was tense and defiantly nervous, with a sheen of sweat and absolutely no acting skills. He wasn't sure if this was the terrorist but this man had something to hide.

"Hi," he started, cheery as always, "I'm Anthony DeAngelo, I'm moving into the neighbourhood soon and I was wondering about the community."

"I...I'm sorry, uhh, but... uhh... this isn't really...uhhh... the best..."

Another man came to the door, seemingly to see what was taking this friend.

He was worse, he screamed danger. He screamed threat.

"Hey Arthur, you coming back to us?"

He knew that voice, that was their terrorist.

"Yeah, yeah in a minute Zach, I was just about to tell Mr...uhh... DeAngelo, wasn't it?" Tony nodded and Arthur continued, "Yeah, telling Mr DeAngelo about the community. He's about to move in down the road."

"Well, if he has time," Zach replied, "We're having a meeting right now, most of the town's guys, we meet up every week." He turned to Tony, "You want to come in, meet some of the guys?"

He'd found the whole cell. Still, if he knew it, Ziva and her 'superior' Mossad skills and McGee and his 'greater-than-thou' tech skills would both have worked it out as well. They'd be on the way if anything happened, they were too professional to let personal stuff get in the way.

Knowing he needed the voices he didn't refuse, instead replying, "Sure, make some friends before I move in, the wife'll be pleased. I'm usually so wrapped up in work I don’t socialise. A whole cell to fill and no friends she says."

Zach grinned and Tony followed, hoping they'd get his clue, with Arthur closing the door behind them. The whole situation radiated danger, from Arthur's confused worry to Zach's calm confidence. 

Zach turned to face him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

The only warning he had was the flash in his eye and the tightening of said hand before a hunting knife slipped into his lower back, just above the belt. It was ripped out, causing what he knew was a jagged wound across his lower back.

He went lax with the sudden pain, falling into Zach's arms and letting out a sound that was half way between a gasp and a strangled scream. Another man joined him and they dragged him into the garage. He didn't resist more than a light struggle, the strength seeping out of him with the blood. 

"What the hell, man?"

"He's a fed, they're after the bomb."

Now mostly disabled, he wasn't able to do anything but scream and whimper as Zach and the new man started beating and kicking him.

No point in trying to keep his cover he started calling for backup.

"Ziva, McGee, backup now. Help me, backup, now. I'm hurt, I need backup. Help. I found them. Backup. Get here 180 Sandon. Hurry oughffff."

He was cut off by a blow to the temple.

"Shit, I think he's calling for help, he might be wired. We need to move."

Hands clawed at his shirt and the radio unit was ripped from his chest, his contact with his team lost. It didn't matter though, he'd sent the message, they were coming.

The hands dropped him unceremoniously on the floor and they left, taking the light with them.

.

It took Tony all of twelve minutes to realise help wasn't coming. Had they stopped them at the door? Maybe they'd already found Ziva and McGee before he'd arrived, he'd been so busy going house to house to notice. Had the MAH put together the parked car and man walking around?  His team could be in danger and there was nothing he could do.

That or they weren't coming at all. 

No, they were more professional than that... right?

He fumbled in the pocket of his trousers, happy they hadn't searched him more than tearing off the wire, making sure to keep pressure on the wound. He'd slowed the blood flow with his suit jacket but he didn't need it any worse than it was. He was worried, he didn't know if it was the pain or the blood loss or something worse but he couldn't feel his legs anymore. Then again, his whole body felt floaty.

His hands were blood slicked, so much so that the phone almost slipped out of his hand, but he managed to press 1 with a shaking finger and the phone began to ring.

.

.

.

Gibbs left MTAC in a foul mood. There was no particular reason for this mood, only an ache in his gut and the knowledge that he'd been taken off a case for politicking. He knew he shouldn't be worried, DiNozzo was more than capable to handle the team and McGee and Ziva were both good agents, they could work even with whatever tension the team currently had.

Still, his gut ached, something wasn't right.

He pulled out his phone, seeing no new messages, no calls for help. He weighed it in his hand, debating whether to call and check-up when it burst to life.

DiNozzo!

He didn't wait, answering after the first ring, knowing in his gut and mind that something was very wrong.

"Gibbs."

"Boss, oh thank god."

His SFA's voice was far too strained, far too pained, his breathing far too heavy.

"DiNozzo, what's going on? Are you alright?"

He was aware of all the eyes in the Bullpen turning to him, conversations ceasing in favour of wanting to know if they were all about to be called into action. They knew his team was working a terrorist cell, this was, if any, a case in which teams worked together.

"Boss, stabbed, backup didn’t show, I think they're in trouble."

"Go back, you've been stabbed?"

"Yeah, s'not bad boss. Don't worry 'bout me, found the cell, bomb. They didn’t come..."

He could tell Tony wasn't going to be able to keep the conversation for much longer. He was lying about the severity of the wound, more concerned about the team than himself. 

"Hang on, we're coming to you. We're..."

"No, boss," Tony's voice was renewed by desperation, "the bomb, they're gonna move me, don’t waste time on me. They're gonna use it, it’s the pri..." He broke off gasping and his breathing became more laboured even after he regained the ability to speak, "priority. Them and the team then me, boss, please."

How anyone could think Tony was anything but selfless, he would never know?

"Tony, I have several teams. Balboa will get McGee and Ziva, Miller will get the bomb, I'm coming to get you but I need your location."

He saw the team getting their gear and pointed to the map still up on the plasma.

"Gibbs, they're moving me soon, I won't be here when you get here. They've already moved the bomb. Land rover, green, custom plate, Haskell. Abby had my location." 

"Ok, Tony, I'm coming for you, I will find you, you just have to hold on till I get there, ok?"

"I don't know boss."

There was no humour and no energy in his agent's voice, just bone tired seriousness. And it was getting weaker with every word.

"Stay alive, that's an order, DiNozzo, you do not have permission to die."

"Boss, I'm sorry..."

"Tony? TONY!"

He heard the phone clatter and realised Tony had lost the battle with consciousness.

It took him all of 30 seconds to relay all the information he needed to the teams, each instantly springing into action.

He then raced to the elevator, on his way to Abby. He was joined by Vance, who looked grim but sure of himself.

"Director?"

"I can't let you go alone so I'm joining you, don't argue."

"Ok, we get the location from Abby and we go."

"Are you sure you're good for this?"

"I have to be, DiNozzo's out there bleeding out and a group of madmen have a bomb."

.

.

.

Vance had heard DiNozzo joke about Gibbs' driving in the past, he now knew not one word was exaggeration. The man drove like a maniac. Then again, there was a life on the line, if there was any time to be manic, now was it.

"Left here."

They were moving DiNozzo, going into the forest, he knew what that most likely meant. Truthfully, Vance was scared of how Gibbs would react to the death of his SFA.

"Stop here."

He could see a car driving away but the signal from DiNozzo's shoe, curtesy of Dr Scuito, had stopped.

A few feet into the forest he saw him. There was a tarp folded in half, covered crudely in leaves and mud. Under the tarp was a distinct shape.

"Tony?"

Gibbs had sprinted to the tarp pulling it away to reveal the man trapped inside it. He watched Gibb's hand reach for the neck, time slowing as he waited for the verdict to be given. Had these terrorists taken an agent or...

"He has a pulse, and he's breathing. ETA on the ambulance?"

"7 minutes."

Vance could hear the relief soaking Gibbs' tone. He now chose to approach, almost gaging at the stench of blood and then the pool of it under the agent's body. He looked dead and Vance had to resist checking for the pulse himself, in case Gibbs' desperation had caused him to imagine it. But the pool of blood was still expanding slowly, a sign of life, no matter how horrific. Gibbs had already reached under the agent to try and plug the wound, Vance passed him his suit jacket to use and Gibbs pressed it in.

"How could this have happened? Why the hell didn't they respond?"

"I don't know, Leon. Can you call Balboa and find out the status of McGee and Ziva?"

He pulled out his phone but found he had no signal, "I'll do it when I have signal, Gibbs."

A groan drew both their gazes and Gibbs leant over, his voice softer and kinder than Vance had ever heard.

"Hey, Tony, can you hear me? You with me Tony?"

"B'ss?"

"I'm here. You keep holding on, ok?"

"Hur's."

"Yeah, that sounds about right. The ambulance is nearly here, ok, so just keep this up a bit longer and then they'll fix you."

"Ha'e h'sp'al."

"I know you do."

"Z'va? Mc'ee?"

"I don't know yet."

He could hear the sirens through the trees, help was almost there.

"Be good for the paramedics, ok, cos I'm still pissed off at you for breaking rule 6 and if you die before I can tell you off properly I'll be really annoyed."

Humour seeped through the gruffness. Vance paused for a second trying to work out which rule 6 was, but drew a blank.

"Wa'n' sur' ma'e it. H'd t' br'k r'le. An' you sh'd be w' Zi 'n' Mc'e, no' me."

"Yeah well, rule 5."

"Th'n's b'ss. 'M st'll s'rry. N' f'st 'nuff."

"Stop apologising, you did good, Tony. This wasn't your fault. You are the best agent I ever worked with, shit happens sometimes."

"D'n't l't m' f'th'r d'm' f'ner'l."

"You're not going to die, you hear me. I need you on my team, not some techy with no gut instincts. You're one of the best agents in the world, I'm not letting you go just yet."

Then the paramedics were there and it was a rush of people. The ambulance was there for all of 12 minutes before it pulled away. He followed in the agency car, knowing his teams could handle everything else for a while. This wasn't the time for Gibbs to be alone.

The paramedics had looked grim and he didn't know all the technobabble but he knew none of it was good. They said there was almost a litre and a half of blood on the tarp and he knew there would be more at the crime scene. Most humans couldn't survive that level of blood loss.

.

Bethesda was waiting for them, the doctors running with him through the doors they couldn't follow through. 

Gibbs looked shattered, slumping into a seat and closing his eyes, his hands and clothes still coated in Tony's blood.

"Gibbs, I'm going back to the Navy yard, come get changed and get more info."

"He flatlined on the way, they almost couldn't get him back. I'm not leaving until I know more."

"Gibbs..."

"The paramedics weren't hopeful, Leon, I'm not leaving him."

"Then I'll bring you the clothes and info if I get some, keep me updated Gibbs, if he..."

He tailed off, knowing Gibbs understood.

A doctor came over to them and he flinched, pretty sure of the message he was about to hear. 

.

.

.

Sam Balboa loved his job 95% of the time. He loved knowing he made a difference, knowing he helped. This was part of the 5% he didn't enjoy. 

After Gibbs received the call from DiNozzo his team raced off to find David and McGee, both of whom were suspected to be injured or even dead. That in itself is never fun.

Somehow what they found was worse. The cars belonging to his team stopped by the agency sedan, even at the cars belonging to Miller's team raced past, and they expected it to be empty, maybe they'd been caught on the way to Tony. Maybe they would be dead in their seats and the car would be covered in blood.

Instead he found them reading, radio off, no idea what had occurred.

He was fuming.

It had taken quite a bit of time to cuff them and drag them back, parading them through the halls on the way to the interrogation rooms. They were separated and left with no clue as to why they'd been arrested, just that they had been. The FBI and IA were both called and told to get there asap, no details as to keeping it under wraps until they knew more.

Then began the investigation part, going over the files to see how long DiNozzo had gone without backup, whether the voices needed for the case had been recorded at all. 

Vance strode into the Bullpen with a fierce determination on his face, heading straight for them. He looked ready to kill.

"Balboa, how are McGee and David?"

"Sir, I don’t even want to say it outload, it's making me sick. They're both fine, and currently in cuffs in IR 5 and 6."

"What?"

"They weren't listening, Sir, the radio was off, they were reading. The radio had been off for 2 hours."

.

.

.

When Fornell had been told to get to the Navy Yard ASAP, he'd sighed. He was starting to feel like the damn liaison. Still he and his team rushed over, flashed their ID's and entered the lift, heading for floor three.

"THEY WERE WHAT?"

Shit, if Vance was that angry something was seriously wrong. He glanced around to see the director with Balboas team, Gibbs' and Miller's Bullpens were both empty.

"Director, what's going on?"

"Currently, I have one agent not expected to make it through the night even if he survives surgery and two more the indirect causes of that. On top of that I have several terrorists in custody but I know three got away, one of whom had a bomb."

"Sir, the one with the bomb, Nelson, we just had it confirmed from the lab, he was the one who killed those people at the station and we think he was the one who stabbed..."

"Who? Who's injured, who's in cuffs?"

Truth was, Fornell was pretty sure that he knew the answer from the general atmosphere in the Bullpen.

"Agent DiNozzo was stabbed, his backup, David and McGee were found later with the radio off, reading."

"Fuuuck, Gibbs is at the hospital?"

"Yeah, he won't leave."

"Keep him there, and keep him away from McGee and David, he'll wring their necks. We're here to help with the case, get us doing whatever you need." 

"Get down to interrogation, help Miller get the terrorists, they have to be the priority, we know they plan to use the bombs in the next few days but we don't have a target yet. Then we deal with McGee and David."

"I have an idea."

"Sacks?" 

"We should put Nelson's picture all over the systems, for police as well as feds. DiNozzo used to be a cop, most of them have heard of him and even those who haven't will respond the same way. We put his picture up with terrorist and cop-killer up, he'll be priority. If he's anywhere in DC, we'll know soon."

"DiNozzo's not dead yet."

"I just meant that he tried to, that he may have succeeded. Best way to get the bastard."

"Do it," there was no hesitation on Vance's voice, "Free, help him."

Free and Sacks moved over to a free computer and began their message.

"When do we start on McGee and David?"

"When IA get here. You want in?"

"Sir, I've known DiNozzo since he was a rookie cop breaking his first case. Showed up my team, back when I was only a junior agent. My lead agent was pissed as hell. We've been trying to recruit him ever since. Yes, I want in."

"You won't be biased?"

"Is there anyone in law enforcement who could be in this situation?"

"Sir," they turned to see Cynthia calling from above, "OSP are on MTAC."

"Damn, that’s right, go get our terrorists, I have a meeting."

"Vance, wait, has anyone told Abby or Dr Mallard?"

.

.

.

Doctor Donald 'Ducky' Mallard knew from the second Fornell entered Autopsy that something was amiss. 

"I apologise, Tobias, but Jethro isn't here."

"I know, I'm here to talk to you."

Ducky was good with people, despite the idea that working with dead bodies made people skills impossible. He could read the body language on the FBI agent.

"Doctor, Tony was stabbed, he's in Bethesda. It's... it doesn't look good."

Ducky felt himself fall back against the table, suddenly feeling very old. 

"Jethro is with him?"

Fornell nodded.

"Have you informed Abbigail yet?"

"No, that was my next stop."

"Please, let me."

The two left Autopsy together, heading up one floor to find Abigail and Palmer.

"Hey Duck-man, Fornell, what's up? Oh no, don't tell me someone was injured, it was Tony wasn't it, they had to use the tracker I put in his shoe, is he ok, he better be ok, I'm gonna be so mad if he's not ok."

"Abigail!"

"Ducky?"

Her voice wobbled.

"Anthony is in Bethesda. We're going there now. The case has been handed over to another team."

"Another team?" Jimmy asked, "Why? Are McGee and David ok?"

"Oh god, don't tell me Timmy and Ziva are hurt to, I can't bear it, please."

Ducky paused, he hadn't actually enquired as to their health. Fornell shifted uneasily.

"They're both fine."

Ducky knew something was wrong with the statement, not that it was a lie, but it was not the whole truth. Something was wrong. Fornell was hiding something.

Fornell was the one who drove them to the hospital, he'd said his team could handle it without him for a few hours. He'd been given Gibbs change of clothes, because the man was covered in his agent's blood.

Jethro looked a mess. His hands had obviously been washed and were clutching a cup of coffee but he was still in the same clothes.

"Jethro?"

"Duck?"

"We brought you a change of clothes. Tony is strong. He'll fight."

It was testament to how worried Ducky was, the last time he'd called Anthony Tony was when his car had blown up, and before that when he had the plague, and before that when he was cuffed to a killer. 

He gave the clothes and he and Palmer left the group in favour of trying to find out Tony's condition.

.

.

.

Gibbs was terrified. Honest to god, scared.

The first doctor had come out just after Tony had gone in and his heart had almost stopped. If this man told them Tony was dead, if he told him his son was gone...

In truth the actual message hadn't been much better.

The doctor needed him to sign the forms as next of kin and had been honest about the severity. Less than 10% chance of survival, worse than the plague.

He'd collapsed numb into a chair, hoping this feeling of nothing would make the time go faster. At some point he'd realised there was blood caked onto his hands and he'd fled to the toilets. Tony's blood. His sons blood.  He needed to get his son's blood off his hands.

He'd scrubbed his hands harshly, so harshly they'd gone red and then they just looked like the blood had stained them. He'd tried so hard to get the damn blood off his hands and out from under his fingernails, not to mention the blood on his knees and clothes. He couldn't stand the blood. So much damn blood.

At some point he'd started crying, something he hadn't done for years. There was such a high chance another child was about to be stolen from him. He wasn't sure he could survive burying another child.

He'd washed his face and his hands a second time, regaining his composure, and left the bathroom, slumping back into the seat. One of the nurses, who knew him from the numerous times he'd been there before, brought him coffee and reassured him Tony would fight.

He had noticed no-one told him Tony would be fine, just that he wouldn't give up.

Hours later he was joined by Ducky, Abby, Palmer and Fornell.

Fornell's presence spoke more about the condition of his team and the case than anything else had. If the FBI was here he wasn't on the case anymore which meant he might be the only person on his team still standing. 

That and the other half of his team hadn't joined them to wait.

He watched Ducky and Palmer walk off before excusing himself to change. The blood free sweats were comfortable, softer than his suit.

Fornell caught him at the door.

"Gibbs, before you go back to Abby I need to tell you about the others."

"McGee and Ziva?"

"Found safe and sound with the radio off, reading. They never knew anything was wrong, Gibbs. They never knew."

Gibbs punched the wall, letting the emotion burn through him and numb the arm completely. Tony was dying and they hadn't listened. How long had Tony waited, bleeding out, before calling him? How many times had he called for help while they... while they read? What if he died worrying about the people who'd left him for dead?

And he'd been worried for them! Worried about them!

"Jethro, go sit down, they'll get their dues. No-one in the Navy Yard or the Hoover Building's gonna let them walk."

Gibbs nodded mutely, walking over to where Abby was and pulling her into a hug. He didn't let go, not when a nurse came to fix his hand, not when Fornell got him another coffee. Not until a weary looking doctor entered the waiting room looking for family of Anthony DiNozzo.

.

"I'm not going to lie, it's still touch and go. He survived surgery, although he flatlined three times, we got him back although it was a struggle. He's currently in a coma, whether he wakes, we don't know at this point. If he makes it through the next 24 hours we can make a more accurate prediction of recovery but with such blood-loss, then the oxygen depletion to his brain from when his heart stopped, his chances are low. I'm sorry."

"I need to see him."

"Of course, Sir."

Abby, Ducky, Palmer and Fornell were left in the waiting room. He knew Fornell had to go back, he was just waiting for the verdict. He'd let the others into Tony's room in a minute, Abby as a sister, Ducky and Palmer as doctors as well as friends.

"Your son is in here, Sir. It's never pleasant to say this, Sir, but I'd recommend using this time to say goodbye."

Gibbs didn't bother to correct the doctor, to say I'm his boss, not his dad. He was the closest thing Tony had to a dad, Tony was the closest thing he had to a son.

Tony looked awful. Paler than the sheets, far to still, breathing through a vent with machines keeping track of his every heartbeat. In contrast the bruises that had bloomed on his face and arms from a vicious assault were far too vivid. There was a gash over his temple that had been stitched up and bruising mottled his arms. His left arm was more bruise than not.

Oh god Tony.

"Doctor, please, the girl in the goth attire who was with me, she's practically his sister."

The doctor nodded, "I'll bring her up. And the others."

He nodded and turned back to his boy, sitting in the plastic chair by his bedside and clasping his hand.

"You have to hang on for me, Tony, you have to hang on. I can't lose you. You will not die. Don't make me make that an order."

The monitors beeped steadily on.

.

.

.

"Director Vance, we need to show you something."

"Go ahead."

"This is the audio from the car before the radio was turned off."

_"_ _Ughhh_ _, his voice is so shredding."_

_"Grating,_ _Ziva_ _, it's_ _grating not shredding_ _."_

_"Does it matter, I_ _cannot deal with it."_

_"Well, what can we do, we're his backup, like he'd need backup here. This place isn't dangerous. It's a_ _controlled_ _community, they're safe."_

_"Then we could just turn off the radio. He would be fine, I'm sure. Tony is a big boy, he can take care of himself."_

_"Yeah."_

_*Radio clicks off, Tony's voice_ _leaves_ _background_ _noise*_

_"This is better."_

_"You said it,_ _Ziva_ _. If Tony_ _gets_ _himself killed it's his ignorance and lack of skill, honestly._ _"_

_"If he gets himself killed we get promotions. Now, I would like to use the silence to continue to read my book."_

_"_ _Sounds_ _like a plan."_

"Please tell me this is a joke."

"I'm sorry Sir, it's not."

.

.

.

"Do you want a lawyer?"

"No, I don't. Why would I want a lawyer?"

"Agent McGee, what was your job on the operation you were working on today?"

Agent Yazmin Oakly of Internal Affairs and Agent Fornell FBI sat opposite him in the interrogation room. Oakly was the one asking questions, Fornell seemed to just want to watch.

He couldn't work out why he was in there. Had Tony messed something up bringing repercussions onto the whole team, because if so they could've at least waited until the case was closed. They had a terrorist to catch. 

But why were they asking about today? And why had he been left in there for so long?

"I was to provide backup for Agent DiNozzo along with Agent David."

"And how were you meant to do this from the car if he was on foot?"

"We had a radio, he was wired."

"Do you usually read books when you're on backup duty?"

"I don't know, I guess it depends on how long we're there for, why? Why are you asking any of this, it's a waste of time? And why is this being recorded?"

"Agent McGee, do you really not know why you're here?"

"If I had to guess, Tony messed up and we're being punished for it?"

Oakly and Fornell exchanged a look.

"And how were you meant to hear Senior Agent DiNozzo with the radio off?"

"It was only for a minute." 

"According to the logs it was two hours."

"Yeah, well, you try listening to DiNozzo for hours on end. And it doesn't matter anyway, he's fine."

Fornell and Oakly exchanged a second look, she pressed a button.

" _Ok, 180 Sandon Road," Tony reported into his comms. 180 houses down, 120 to go. God_ _,_ _he'd already been going non-stop for a few hours._

_"Hi,_ _I'm Anthony DeAngelo, I'm moving into the neighbourhood soon and I was wondering about the community."_

_"I._ _..I'm_ _sorry,_ _uhh_ _, but..._ _uhh_ _..._ _this isn't really..._ _uhhh_ _... the best..._ _"_

_"Hey Arthur, you coming back to us?"_

_"Yeah, yeah in a minute Zach, I was just about to tell Mr..._ _uhh_ _... DeAngelo, wasn't it?_ _Yeah, telling Mr DeAngelo about the community. He's about to move in down the road."_

_"Well, if he has time,_ _w_ _e're having a meeting right now, most of the town's guys, we meet up every week._ _You want to come in, meet some of the guys?"_

_"Sure, make some friends before I move in, the_ _wife'll_ _be pleased. I'm usually so wrapped up in work I don’t socialise. A whole cell to fill and no friends she says."_

_There was the sound of a_ _knife entering flesh_ _and_ _a sound that was half way between a gasp and a strangled scream._ _Then the sound of a light_ _struggle_ _._

_"What the hell, man?"_

_"He's a fed, they're after the bomb."_

_Screams and_ _whimpers_ _came through the mic, along with the sound of a beating._

_"_ _Ziva_ _, McGee, backup now. Help me, backup, now. I'm hurt, I need backup. Help. I found them. Backup. Get here 180 Sandon. Hurry_ _oughffff_ _."_

_There was a thwack as Tony's voice cut off._

_"Shit, I think he's calling for help, he might be wired. We need to move."_

The signal turned to static and Fornell took over.

"Mr McGee your position at NCIS has been terminated and you are hereby under arrest for conspiracy to terrorism, neglection of duty, conspiracy to murder and possibly the negligent homicide of Senior Agent Anthony DiNozzo. You better pray he pulls through because if he doesn't it's your ass on the line. You have the right to remain silent..."

.

.

.

Ziva had been stewing for far too long. Tony had messed up, she knew it, and now she was in trouble. 

Two people entered the room, Fornell and a woman. She stood up.

"May I go now? This has been a misunderstanding, no? If Tony has done something stupid, we should not pay for it."

"Sit down David. Do you want a lawyer?"

"Why would I want a lawyer?"

"Do you want a lawyer Miss David?"

"No and it's Agent David."

"Ok, Miss David, do you want to admit to what you did, or do we have to tell you?"

"I did nothing wrong. And I am an agent."

Miss David your position at NCIS has been terminated and you are hereby under arrest for conspiracy to terrorism, neglection of duty, conspiracy to murder and possibly the negligent homicide of Senior Agent Anthony DiNozzo."

"What is this nonscience?"

"Are you sure you don't want a lawyer."

"I do not."

.

.

.

"There is celebration today as Federal Agents stop a terrorist attack planned and orchestrated by a group known as Military at Home. The MAH are radical terrorists who attempted to get what they wanted by attacking a gala for military and government personnel. Their leader Zach Nelson was arrested for terrorism and..."

Gibbs turned off the TV. It had been nearly two days since Tony had fallen into a coma, he showed no sign of waking yet. He knew it was a miracle he'd made it this far but still, he wanted to see Tony awake, moving.

David and McGee were due for their trials, he was surprised they got trials considering they aided terrorists, even unintentionally, but Vance was lenient enough to give them that. He hoped they got long sentences for what they did.

More of a problem, Ziva had escaped confinement and was on the loose. Vance had posted a guard to DiNozzo's hospital door. Apparently, she'd been blaming him for the arrest, for her actions, everything. They feared she would go after Tony for revenge, something he would not allow.

Abby visited the hospital when she could but she was back at work most of the time. Same for Ducky and Palmer. He had time off, his leave that he never took plus personal/family emergency time plus he didn't currently have a team.

He just needed Tony to wake up.

.

.

.

Gibbs was at his side. Three months had passed and he'd shown no signs of waking, they said he was clutching to life, clinging on against all odds.

They'd said to talk to him, and he'd talked about menial things for the first few months. In the last weeks he'd told Tony about why his backup had never come, about catching the terrorists, about the state of the office, how many people were wishing him good health. 

Over the years Gibbs had obsessed over many things, clung on desperately when he should've let go, even when it damaged him more. He knew that Tony's injured were severe enough that even if he woke he'd never be an agent again, that his mind wouldn't work the same way. Gibbs wouldn't have cared, as long as he had Tony, but he knew Tony wouldn't manage. He'd survive but he wouldn't live. Alive but not living, not in the way Tony viewed life. 

He closed his fingers around Tony's,

"Tony, we stopped the terrorists, we saved the civilians, you did your job. You won. The team let you down but you were a hero, you saved lives despite them. You went above and beyond. I've always said 'when the job is done, you walk away'. Tony, the job is done, if you want to let go, I'm not gonna stop you. You were a better son than I could've wished for, but don't stay for me. You deserve better."

One final breath slipped past Tony's lips and he fell into peace, even as the collection of machines around him burst to life with a cacophony of noise. Gibbs let them usher him from the room. He knew there was nothing that they could do.

Tony was gone.

.

.

.

When the news broke, tears were shed.

Ducky had found out first, he'd been on the way to Tony's room when he'd found Jethro crying in the hallway, nurses bustling about frantically.

He'd understood instantly, letting tears run down his own cheeks as he pulled his friend into an embrace.

He'd been the one to break it to Plamer, while Gibbs told Abby.

Palmer had also cried, mourning his closest friend. They'd both known it was the most likely scenario, but most likely hadn't made it any easier in the end.

Telling Abby was the hardest thing Gibbs had ever done, he'd been unable to get the words out but she'd known anyway, rushing over, tears already spilling out and denial falling past her lips. Her knees had given and they'd ended up hugging on the floor of her lab, sobbing together for the loss of a family member.

Ducky had also told Vance. He'd maintained his composure and informed the man of Anthony's passing. Genuine grief had flited across Vance's face. Any apology for his past attitude now too late.

The rest of the office had been gathered on floor three 15 minutes later. Field teams and admin alike stood in the cramped area under the balcony as the Director made his speech.

"It is my unfortunate duty to inform you all of the passing of Senior Agent Anthony DiNozzo."

He had planned more but the atmosphere had become instantly too heavy, anger and sadness tearing the agency apart.

The agent they had lost was more than an agent, he was the heart of his team, the heart of the agency. He'd known everyone, their names and friends and lives and interests, friendly with everyone.

And everyone mourned.

.

.

.

It came as no surprise when Gibbs retired, he gave his notice a few weeks before the funeral.

"I'm burring my boy," he'd said, "and I'm leaving. Leaving DC, leaving NCIS, leaving it all. I'd wanted to leave him the team, now there is no team and there is no him. There's no reason to stay."

"I understand Gibbs, just don't do anything stupid. He'd be pissed if you joined him so soon."

"I'm not going to join him yet, Vance. I lost Shannon, Kelly, now Tony. My dad and Abby are all I have left, I won't leave them. I'm just tired of losing the people I care about, the ones I should be able to protect. I'm just tired, Leon."

.

.

.

The funeral had been powerful. It had been a statement to the world and testament to the person Tony DiNozzo had been.

The cemetery was packed, so much so that even the man giving the service had been shocked. Police and feds filled the area, all there to watch the coffin descend. People Tony had worked with all there to pay their last respects, the heads of several Federal Agencies, families he'd saved.

The families saved by his giving them the car with the bomb in it. The one's his sacrifice had saved.

Gibbs had been the one to plan it, managing to claim the plot next to his wife and daughter. No-one had commented on the placement, they understood how close the agents had been. 

Anthony DiNozzo Sr hadn't shown, he may not have even known his son was dead. No-one cared particularly, the man was no father.

The service had drawn tears from all who attended. Tales from Gibbs, Vance, Abby, so many others. 

.

.

.

Ziva and McGee were both given 20 years to life, at least 15 before parole for McGee and no chance of parole for Ziva. She'd been found back in Israel by her father. He had been utterly disappointed in her and had agreed in extraditing her to face trial. He'd grown to respect DiNozzo, he actions had been selfish and driven by emotion. They had been disgraceful.

Abby ended up moving to LA to be with her boyfriend and work at OSP. Gibbs saw her frequently, moving down to live in LA, away from the memories of DC. Vance persuaded him to help OSP with their cases, a detective's eyes. 

it was painful for both of them but they managed, adapted as best they could, made sure that team didn't make the mistakes his had.

Ducky retired and handed over his position to Palmer. He'd waited until his assistant was ready before he did.

FLET-C had a new example for their recruits, a new story to tell. Potential agents were given the Royal Woods case, what happened to the senior Agent and the consequences. The same lessons became available at police academies across the country. 

The message became ingrained:

NEVER EVER LEAVE YOUR TEAMMATE IN THE WIND! ALWAYS HAVE THEIR BACK!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sorry.  
> Well, maybe a little.  
> Tell me what you think, please.


End file.
